The guestroom, a room once filled with cribs and diapers of a couple blue-eyed twins. A room filled with late night talks and fluffs. A room once turned into a ‘jungle’ with green thread, hung by masking tape, that remained for years, watching the twins grow from their bird’s eye view. A room where grandparents and great aunts, the elders--the ‘elephants’ as we call them--swaddled and read bedtime stories while mom and dad got some peace. A room where late night homework was sweat over and frustrated teens hid from view. A room that holds, in the fabric of its walls to the tape stains on the ceiling, the memories of two kids becoming two adults. A room that is now a respite for family and friends far and wide to come and stay in ‘the elephant room.’ And though it may look a little different from the off white and khaki green walls that listened to babies crying, or the neon robin blue and grey that watched children become teens, it’s the room for those two adults to come back home and remember where they came from.